sure in bringing forward. Oxford had
established confidence both in his character and talents, and his speech
had been such as to impress an experienced man, like Lord Cosham, with
an opinion of his powers, that prepared a welcome for him, such as no
one could have dared to expect. His lordship thought his niece not only
likely to be happier, but to occupy a more distinguished position with
such a man as Norman May, than with most persons of ready-made rank and
fortune.

The blushing and delighted Dr. May had thought himself bound to speak of
his son's designs, but he allowed that the project had been formed under
great distress of mind, and when he saw it treated by so good a man,
as a mere form of disappointed love, he felt himself reprieved from the
hardest sacrifice that he had ever been called on to make, loved little
Meta the better for restoring his son, and once more gave a free course
to the aspirations that Norman's brilliant boyhood had inspired. Richard
took the same view, and the evening passed away in an argument--as if
any one had been disputing with them--the father reasoning loud, the son
enforcing it low, that it had become Norman's duty to stay at home to
take care of Meta, whose father would have been horrified at his taking
her to the Antipodes. They saw mighty tasks for her fortune to effect
in England, they enhanced each other's anticipations of Norman's career,
overthrew abuses before him, heaped distinctions upon him, and had made
him Prime Minister and settled his policy, before ten o'clock brought
their schemes to a close.

Mary gazed and believed; Margaret lay still and gently assented; Ethel
was silent at first, and only when the fabric became extremely airy and
magnificent, put in her word with a vehement dash at the present abuses,
which grieved her spirit above all, and, whether vulnerable or not,
Norman was to dispose of, like so many giants before Mr. Great-heart.

She went upstairs, unable to analyse her sentiments. To be spared
the separation would be infinite relief--all this prosperity made her
exult--the fair girl at the Grange was the delight of her heart, and yet
there was a sense of falling off; she disliked herself for being either
glad or sorry, and could have quarrelled with the lovers for perplexing
her feelings so uncomfortably.

Though she sat up till the party returned, she was inclined to be
supposed in bed, so as to put off the moment of meeting; but Margaret,
who s